


Catalyst

by SS_Shitstorm



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Sex, F/F, Femslash, Lesbian Sex, Loss of Virginity, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4775525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SS_Shitstorm/pseuds/SS_Shitstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You like Ino, right?” Sakura murmurs, green eyes mischievous from behind an uncanny sex-kitten face “Do you like girls? Do you want to find out?” Hinata doesn't know how to respond to this. When Sakura decides to kiss her, she doesn't have to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> Why is there still no fandom for these two goddamn
> 
> Another reupload. I cannibalized this from a fic I intended to be much, much larger and more involved, but completely lost inspiration for it. So I just took the smut out and turned it into a separate fic. Enjoy

Everyone tells her it's a bad idea.

 

It's sweet, tangy, but has just enough of a bitter aftertaste to know the drink is potent. 80% proof, or so it reads on the back of the bottle.

 

Everyone tells her it's a bad idea, because she's a sweet, girl, and shouldn't get into such things. She shouldn't be involved in the partying scene. She's too innocent, too loving, caring, and some careless boy will take advantage of her while she's too tipsy to excuse herself, too warm and fuzzy-brained to pull away.

  
  


She hears this, and just shakes her head, smiling. A little known fact is that Hyuuga women, while sweet, caring, determined, refined, and educated, and many, many other things, by some strange twist of fate, had a genetic mutation giving them the alcohol tolerance of a rock. So she just shakes her head, despite her friends voicing their increasingly slurred concerns, and tries a little bit of everything. Several times.

 

Although she has to admit, this particular party had gotten a bit out of control. It's early summer, during the jounin exams-right after the semi-finales, actually- and all of Konoha's youth, and the occasional contestant from Sand, Mist, or Cloud were here. All partying. All letting loose, being the at the ripe age of shinobi when they're old enough to know they could die any day, but not old enough to take it seriously.

  
  


  She had been sitting with Kiba previously. Shino never attended these kind of gatherings, so she'd stick with Kiba. It was his party, after all. But the more feral of her teammates had left her side after his fifth shot. Hinata likes to think it's because he's bored, not because Ino Yamanaka has turned one of the basement's support beams into a makeshift stripper pole and that he wants a better view.

 

Actually, Hinata wants a better view too, though byakugan, even un-activated, makes it possible to see her up close even from the other end of the room. It's fascinating how her body glides over the pole, her legs wrapped around the base, generous c-cups hugging the upper half. Sweat glistening on her forehead, long blonde bangs obscuring one eye, and her chest heaving with increasingly desperate breaths.

  
  


At first it appears the blonde's exhausted, or too hot. But she knows better. She doesn't even have to view her chakra pathways to know it's centered in her breasts and groin. Ino is an exhibitionist, pure and simple. At least she is with a few drinks in her. The eyes on her and her alone gets her off, and while Hinata doesn't want to admit it, she's feeling something stir within her too.

 

But she doesn't want to be up there on that pole. She wants to _be_ that pole, and _oh, god_ just the thought makes her face heat up and turn her cheeks a bright magenta. She wants Ino rubbing all over _her_ , her breasts squished up against _her_ , that wet, hot, desperate feeling, she wants Ino to be feeling that for _her._

 

 

And then she feels horrible, and dirty, and just _wrong_ because girls weren't supposed to like girls, and she wasn't supposed to like anyone other than Naruto, but even the clueless blonde has a front-row seat, cheering on Io and sloshing his drink all around. He's looking at _Ino_ not her.

 

“Hey.”

 

She's engulfed by a sloppy, one-armed hug. She freezes, unmoving, and then the sweet flowery signature perfume of Haruno Sakura reaches her senses, and she relaxes.

 

“H-hi S-Sakura-chan.” it's comes out as a surprised squeak. Sakura's eyes are low-lidded, and there's alcohol on her breath. She's drunk. Not tipsy, not buzzed. _Drunk._ And this is worrisome, because drunk Sakura has no sense of personal space.

 

Drunk Sakura is also still somehow coherent and stable enough to tell that Hinata's eyes are still glued to Ino's gyrating body.

 

Sakura makes a face as if in pain. “Why the hell are you looking at _that?_ ” with some amount of disgust evident in her voice. “I swear, she's such a little whore when she's drunk.”

 

This catches Hinata off guard. Weren't they friends? And more importantly, Sakura's face has dipped even closer to her, right below her chin.

 

“I-I don't really know,” Hinata starts. “I just, it's just, she looks so, um-”

 

It's then she realizes that generous alcohol tolerance or not, her cognitive thought was becoming fuzzy, and it's becoming increasingly harder to form a coherent argument. _Oh no_ and just as she's about to excuse herself to find a glass of water, she feels a tug on her shoulder.

 

Drunk Sakura is now astonished, wide eyed Sakura. “Don't tell me,” and she pulls Hinata's shoulder so that she falls backwards onto the couch. “You actually like watching her?”

 

Hinata's jaw drops. She's stunned that Sakura would so openly remark about something like that.

 

But she doesn't lie.

 

“H-hai.” she swallows hard. “I-I just can't stop looking.”

 

Sakura laughs. It's high and pearly, not rough and sloppy like she'd expect someone this intoxicated would sound, and _oh god oh god_ Sakura is now laying down with her head in Hinata's lap. She puts a finger to the Hyuuga's lips, and-

 

“Hey Hinata,” Sakura whispers, although the laugh is still evident in her voice, threatening to burst into a fit of giggles at any-given moment. “Do you wanna try something?

 

She swallows hard, and wonders what the odds are of drunk Sakura becoming bi-curious Sakura within the next couple of minutes. “W-what is it?”

 

“You like Ino, right?” Sakura's murmurs, green eyes mischievous from behind a perfect sex-kitten face “Do you like girls? Do you want to find out?” Hinata doesn't know how to respond to this. When Sakura decides to kiss her, she doesn't have to.

 

Suddenly, there is _no_ personal space bubble. There's no room, no party, there's only Sakura's lips on hers. It's light, and languid, and so smooth. She smells and tastes every drink Sakura's had, but it's overwhelmed by her scent, her pink flowery girly scent, and it's amazing. It feels _amazing_.

 

Hinata knows it's wrong. She knows that her first kiss is supposed to be Naruto's. It's supposed to be under a fullmoon on their wedding night, not in a dirty basement with her friend, with another girl, no less. But as wrong as it felt, her body gets weaker with every passing moment, her heart is racing and fuzzy and oh god Sakura's tongue weaves past her lips and is fighting with hers, and her hands on the small of her back, holding her up, keeping her from falling, and as embarrassing and horrible as this _should_ be, it just feels so _right._

 

Hinata stops resisting.

 

And starts giving. Forcing. She has no idea where this strength comes from, why she feels the need to fight for dominance, but she does. And that feels amazing too. It's _her_ tongue that presses into Sakura's mouth, _her_ hand weaving through silky pink hair, and it's she that takes the initiative and leans Sakura back onto the couch, moving her shorter, thicker body over Sakura's tall, lithe one.

 

She's dimly aware that the entire basement has gone quiet and that they're looking at her and Sakura, not Ino. She suspects that Naruto's looking too, and confirms it by darting her eyes upward for half a second. She see his face, the gorgeous beautiful boyish face, messy blonde hair, puppy-dog blue eyes, and he's watching them both with an intensity like she's never seen. For a split second, she wants to stop. To touch him, not Sakura. To have Naruto writhing under her instead.

 

But it's only a split second.

 

There's a flurry of movement, and somehow they're off the couch, Sakura's leading her somewhere, taking her by the hand upstairs and outside. There's another building, a storage shed or something. She doesn't know, or care, because once the door is shut, Sakura's taken control again, clasping her hands around the Hyuuga's face and pulling it level with hers, pressing her up against the wall and starting a slow, deliberate grinding motion of hips against hers. Hinata imagines this is how it must feel to be the pole in Kiba's basement.

  
  


There's a moments' pause as Sakura fumbles with her sweater zipper before yanking it down, freeing pert, small, but perfectly shaped b-cups to the cold night air. Hinata wonders for a moment why she isn't wearing a bra, but loses the though as Sakura's now removing _her_ jacket and cupping her much larger breasts in her hands and dear god the medic nin in her is apparent because she uses her meticulous knowledge of erogenous zones to her advantages and Hinata moans out her name into a harsher, more demanding kiss.

 

The grinding is getting more desperate. She knows what Sakura needs. She knows how to do it, but finds her resolve waning because she's never been this close to _anyone_ before, much less molested them, and though it IS another girl, and it couldn't be THAT hard to figure out how to make her feel good, she's still nervous.

 

She's terrified.

 

If Sakura senses this, she doesn't say anything, and she doesn't stop. In fact now that she's figured out how to unhook Hinata's bra, she upgrades from simple fondling to- _“Oh god”_ Hinata can't help but throw her head back as Sakura takes erect nipple into her mouth, suckling softly, teeth just barely scrapping ever so softly and Hinata's shaking so hard she wonders if Sakura wonders if she's alright.

 

She doesn't remember Sakura weaving her fingers past the waistband of her pants, in between her legs and under her panties, but it must've happened, because her fingers are working in slow, deliberate circles around her clit, and coupled with the attention to her breasts, it's too much, and the fire building beneath her stomach explodes, sending eclectic pinpricks through her entire boy and she digs her fingers into Sakura's hair as the orgasm rocks through her body. “ _Oh god Sakura,_ **Sakura** _”_

 

“S-sakura?”

 

It takes her a moment to realize that the pinkette had not only lost consciousness against, her, but had done so with her fingers inside her and her mouth still on her breast.

 

She also realizes that she's just lost her virginity to her very drunk, very unconscious best friend.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


It's the cold sweat that eventually wakes Sakura up

 

It's cold. Not freezing, but brisk. It's dark, but she can hear birds outside. That didn't make sense. But then again-

 

She clasps a hand to her aching, throbbing forehead. One particularly loud bird seemed to be singing in time with the painful pulse in her head.

 

“Ugh.”

 

Sakura isn't an alcoholic by any means, but she's no stranger to hangovers either, and coupled with her medical knowledge, she knows that what she needs is water, food, and - She feels her stomach lurching as she attempts to get to her feet.

 

Right. Food could wait. Water and a hefty dose of painkiller couldn't.

 

So she makes a second attempt to stand up, only to find she can't. In fact, she can't even sit upright, when a quick investigation makes it clear that it's another human that's pinning her down, that painful sensation twists in her gut again.

 

 _“Stay calm”_ Sakura exhales slowly, trying her best not to panic. Just because she woke up in a strange place with another person on top of her doesn't exactly mean they had carnal relations, although it /did/ heavily imply it. She WAS drunk last night, as were plenty of other young ninja. Anything could've happened. It could be totally innocent, why she wasn't even naked- although-

 

She realizes with some dismay that her top is missing. And her breasts are exposed and sore. Well fuck that.

 

“Unnn”

 

A soft moan has her freeze in her tracks. She tilts her head down, and to her immense relief, sees only Hinata.

 

And to her infinite _horror_ sees only Hinata. _Naked_ Hinata.

 

She's rubbing her head with her hand, dazed no doubt, but any sign of a hangover on her part isn't there, because when pearly white eyes flutter open to meet hers, Hinata fixes her with a shy, coy, but undeniably _sultry_ look that has Sakura shuddering. Any doubts she has left about what happened the night previous are gone.

 

“ M-morning, Sakura-san.” and despite the stutter there is no trace of apprehension in her voice. It's smooth and somehow velvety that makes the medic nin suddenly very, very relaxed. It's only when she finds herself mentally tracing lines around her thicker, buxom figure and wondering just how the _hell_ Naruto didn't notice her, that Sakura get's scared.

 

**Thwuck**

 

She moves suddenly, now on her feet and frantically searching for her clothes. Okay, just shirt. Her shorts and skirt were still (mostly) on.

 

“S-Sakura-san?” The nervous lilt in her voice is back, obviously feeling a little dismayed after being shoved off of the other kunoichi's lap. “What are you-”

 

She trails off. Sakura neglects to respond either way, focused entirely on finding her bra, even though she _knows_ she wasn't wearing one last night. Anything to look busy, to shut her out. Because while she accepts that she's woken up with a massive hangover with most of her clothes gone next to a equally disheveled girl in a shed, she can't accept that she actually slept with her.

 

She didn't do things like that. She was raised better, taught better, _trained_ better. She didn't do casual sex. She didn't do _girls_. Sure, she and Ino had been curious before as children, they'd practiced on each other, gotten shitfaced together and made out for the boys, but this wasn't Ino.

 

This was Hinata. Sweet, innocent Hinata, and a sickly feeling in her stomach tells her Hinata probably doesn't do casual sex either. That Hinata probably doesn't do sex period.

 

Sakura freezes.

 

Oh no, she didn't.

 

“Sakura?”

 

It's painfully timid, her voice, and she turns her attention back to the Hyuuga, fetal position against the wall, and oh god she looks scared. Hurt. Betrayed.

 

 _She did_.

 

Sakura swallows hard. She needs to get this over with. Now.

 

“Hinata, “ she pauses trying to figured out exactly what angle she should approach this from. “How much of last night do you remember?”

 

“Everything. ”

 

Shit. She wasn't expecting such a blunt answer . So much for that.

 

“I remember, y-you sat next to me, in Kiba's basement. W-we talked about Ino, and then,” she bites her lip, looking down, a furious blush raising up in her cheeks.

 

“Y-you kissed me.”

 

Sakura clenches her fist involuntarily. Of course, SHE'D be the one drunk enough to instigate this. Stupid stupid STUPID-

 

“I was scared, at first, because I-I've never done anything like that.” she admits slowly. “But it was just so soft, and it started to feel g-good, and then we came up here, and-” she stops a smile suddenly forming of pale lips.

 

“We had s-, we had se- s-s-s” She seems to struggle with the word, skin flushed an even brighter magenta that before,

 

“Sex, Hinata.” Sakura corrects her, finding herself suddenly squirming uncomfortably at the word.

 

“Hai.” she admits weakly. Sakura blows out a breath, finding her resolve to continue waning. She looks away, focusing -hard- on the opposite wall.

 

“You've never done that before, have you?”

 

“No.”

 

_Oh god, here we go_

 

“And, you do know that sometimes, people do that just for fun, right?”

 

Her eyes widen, confused.

 

“Fun?”

 

“Well, yeah, I mean, it felt good, right?” Sakura breaks away, moving back towards Hinata and kneeling down beside her, brushing a few askew hairs from her face. “Sometimes people have sex just for fun, sometimes it doesn't mean anything, sometimes-”

 

 

“Sakura, that wasn't a mistake. ”

 

 

She stops dead. It's short, stated, and the honorific's dropped. Hinata's eyes bore into hers with an intensity she's never felt before. Again, she shudders.

 

“I- I don't want this to be a mistake if it d-d-doesn't have to be. “ and /fuck/ here come the tears. She can almost hear Hinata swallowing hard, trying furiously to fight them back. What comes next is incoherent, lost in a stream of words and nonsensical whispers as she gives in, cupping her hands over her face and sobbing.

 

Sakura wants to sink into the ground, to disappear, to fucking _die_ because though she'd admittedly done various stupid, insensitive, and sometimes downright _bitchy_ , things over the course of her life, this had to bet he worst.

 

Well, second worst.

 

Try as she may, in the back of her mind, she hears similar sobbing. Similar frustrated tears. Her teammates's tears, pleading with her to forgive him because he didn't fulfill his promise, he couldn't bring the boy she loved back. She'd wanted to comfort him, to embrace him and cry with him, but she didn't.

 

That . . . that was a mistake.

 

One she could not and would not repeat.

 

Slowly, she slinks one arm around the sobbing girl, then the other, and then crushes her in a full blown embrace. “Hinata,. Look at me. _Look at me.”_ and she tilts her chin up, brushing sticky strands of hair and tears away, and kisses her.

 

It's slow, soft, light, and quick, and she looks her in the eyes, a weary smile on her face, and leans forward, whispering into her ear.

 

“It won't be a mistake. I promise. ”

 

She doesn't stop shuddering or sobbing immediately, but it soon subsides into heavy, labored breathing, punctuated by the occasional hiccup. She burrows her head into Sakura's shoulder, and returns the crushing embrace. Hard.

 

“Hinata, let me walk you home. “Sakura says softly. “We'll get cleaned up, and I'll take you out to dinner. Anywhere you want to go.”

 

She feels the dark haired girl nod, despite the proximity to her shoulder, and a muffled agreement follows.

 

They separate, Sakura again gets to her feet, finally locating her shirt, which was somehow hanging from a nail on the ceiling, and after sliding it back one, turns to find Hinata struggling with a stuck zipper on her jacket, which (after much frustration) she manages to help her with.

 

“Sakura-san?” Hinata paces her hand on Sakura's shoulder as she opens the door.

 

“Mmm?” she responds, now reminded of the ungodly throbbing in her head thanks to the blinding sunlight. “What is it?”

 

“When you s-said you want to take me out tonight, does that mean, is that a-”

 

“Date?” Sakura smiles, leaning in the kiss the shorter girls forehead.

 

“Yes, it is.”

  
  


 


End file.
